


Remember That You're Mine

by notionally



Category: GOT7
Genre: Alpha Jinyoung, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Begging, Bottom Im Jaebum | JB, Dirty Talk, Humiliation, Jealousy, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Omega Jaebum, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Orgasm Denial, Smut, Teasing, Top Park Jinyoung | Jr., idolverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-02
Updated: 2019-02-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 03:38:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,841
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17256911
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notionally/pseuds/notionally
Summary: Jinyoung presents as an alpha and Jaebum can't help himself -- he wants him, so badly, so desperately. Too bad Jinyoung likes to tease.Written for the Tell Me Good Boy Bottom Jaebum Fic Fest.





	Remember That You're Mine

**Author's Note:**

> written for the prompt: _some abo dynamics set in idolverse au where jaeb is an omega who has been thrown into a leadership role with six other rowdy boys (you can choose how the boys present but alpha jy is a must!!). anyway jaeb has to deal with a whole bunch of shit and also how to deal with alpha jy who is now hot and shit instead of awkward unpresented bounce!jy and ye_
> 
> dear prompter, I hope you enjoy this!

 

Jaebum doesn’t know how to deal with this.

He’s known that Jinyoung’s an alpha for a while now, of course, but _knowing_ something intellectually isn’t quite the same as _experiencing_ it first hand. Just like how knowing that he was an omega hadn’t done anything to prepare him for how his first heat would feel.

“Hyung, are you okay?”

Jaebum blinks. Jinyoung’s looking at him with an expression of puzzlement scrawled across his brow. He drops the towel he was using to dry his hair around his shoulders. The t-shirt he’s wearing is an old one – Jaebum’s seen it countless time before. But where it used to hang loosely across Jinyoung’s body, it now stretches across his chest. When did his little Jinyoungie get so _broad?_

“I’m fine,” mumbles Jaebum, fidgeting slightly from his spot on the sofa. He drops his gaze to his phone, mindlessly opens twitter and starts scrolling through it. Anything to stop himself from staring at Jinyoung. “Just thinking.”

Jinyoung hums in acknowledgment, goes back to roughly toweling his hair dry as he wanders across the room towards the kitchen. Despite himself, Jaebum raises his gaze, watches the flexing of Jinyoung’s thigh muscles beneath his shorts as he strides purposefully across his line of sight.

This is new, Jaebum thinks to himself, swallowing tightly.

They’ve all known that Jinyoung was an alpha for a year or so now – when he’d first started presenting they had all laughed about it, because Jinyoungie? An alpha? It seemed like a joke, and even Jinyoung himself had found it incredulous.

“You’ll always be my baby,” Jaebum had said to him, back then, as he’d slung a lazy arm around Jinyoung’s shoulders. And Jinyoung had giggled and tucked his head into the crook of Jaebum’s neck. Because even though they also knew by then that Jaebum was an omega, neither of them had started maturing into it yet. And the thought of their stereotypically intimidating Jaebum hyung as an omega was as laughable as pretty, princely Jinyoung being an alpha.

And yet, now here they are.

Jaebum thinks back to when he’d started maturing, thinks back to his first heat. He’d taken as many suppressants as were safe to consume, and yet – the pain that had ripped through his core, the desperation with which he’d yearned for the scent, the touch, the _heat_ of an alpha pressed up inside him. It scared him, how needy and clingy and desperate he became. But at the same time – it felt right.

Mark was the only other one of them to fully present then, and so he’d helped Jaebum out. And when Jaebum had allowed himself to relax into it, given himself in to the feeling of _wanting,_ the pain had subsided. It was like coming home to himself, accepting a part of who he was that he had maybe always tried to hide.

Now, months down the line, Jaebum’s settled into being an omega, settled into the fact that he’s somehow the leader of a bunch of hormonal boys, all of whom are technically – aside from Jackson – somehow dominant to him. Even Youngjae and Bambam, both of whom everyone had expected to be omegas, are betas. But maybe being an omega made him a good leader. Maybe it was his omega instincts that made him so eager to care for the members, and so good at it.

He’s long since accepted that being an omega is part of who he is. It’s not really something he thinks about very much.

But then Jinyoung walks out of the shower and the strength of his scent hits, like a cement mixer dumping concrete over him. He feels suffocated and yet completely helpless to do anything to save himself, and suddenly his omega senses are wailing at him.

“What’s wrong with you?” asks Jackson, loudly, breaking Jaebum out of his reverie. Jackson hops onto the sofa next to Jaebum. “You look like you’re going to spew.”

Jaebum makes a face. “Why does everyone keep asking me if I’m okay?” he grumbles. “I’m fine.”

Jackson snorts. “Yeah, okay, your face is definitely always this bright red colour,” he says, reaching over to pinch Jaebum’s cheek. His fingers are cool against Jaebum’s skin, and – to his great dismay – Jaebum lets out a strangled whine.

A beat passes. Then Jackson barks with laughter. “What the fuck was that?” he asks. “Are you in heat or something?”

“No!” objects Jaebum. Then he pauses. “I don’t think so? I’m not due for weeks. I just – feel weird.”

Jackson raises an eyebrow. He cocks his head at Jaebum contemplatively. “This wouldn’t have anything to do with the fact that Jinyoungie stopped taking his suppressants, would it?”

Despite himself, Jaebum’s eyes widen. “He what?” he asks. “Why?”

Jackson gestures vaguely with one hand. “Said something about it fucking up his moods, I don’t know.”

Jaebum frowns at Jackson. “He didn’t tell me any of that,” he complains.

“Guess you’re not his favourite omega after all,” coos Jackson, giggling lightly to himself. Something inside Jaebum twists with discomfort. He tries not to think about it. Just his omega senses kicking in. He would want to be _any_ alpha’s favourite. That’s just what all omegas want. Never mind that Jaebum’s never been so deterministic about it before.

So Jaebum schools his expression, clears his throat, and says, in his best ‘leader’ voice, “He should tell the members before making decisions like that. It affects us all.”

Jackson grins at him, nudges him sharply with his elbow. “Affects some of us more than others,” he teases. Jaebum shoves him away, and Jackson falls into a heap laughing. “Seriously, though – is that why you’re looking so tense? Cause I can smell the difference too, but _boy_ – you look really affected.”

“Only because I was blindsided,” grumbles Jaebum. “I’ll get used to it.”

 

-

 

He does not get used to it.

Far from it – if anything it gets worse.

Every time Jaebum sees Jinyoung, his heart rate speeds up, and adrenaline courses through his veins like fire. He can’t quite figure out when Jinyoung got so built, but now his eyes can’t stop trailing lazily down the taper of his back, broad at the shoulders, narrow at the waist. Can’t stop alighting drunkenly on the way his arms fill out the sleeves of his t-shirts. Or the way when he laughs and throws his head back, the sharp angle of his jawline juts out like a challenge.

The worst thing, by far, though, is the smell. Even when he can’t see him, Jaebum can smell him. His scent is sweet, like lavender, but also smoky, and woodsy, like crackling fire. It crawls into his nostrils and settles in his lungs, until it’s all he can breathe.

“Hyung,” Jinyoung says, and his voice is deep – so deep – and round and warm and mellow. Jaebum licks his lips. He needs to get a grip. This is Jinyoung. His little baby Jinyoung, who he’s looked after since their Bounce era days. Never mind that baby Jinyoung has grown up into a man who looks like he could fuck Jaebum until he cries. Jaebum scrunches his eyes closed, tries to force that image out of his brain. It’s just his hormones firing out of control, that’s all.

“Yeah?” Jaebum replies, a little too hoarsely for his liking. He coughs, swallows around the lump in his throat. “What’s up?”

Jinyoung licks his lips – his plump, full lips, now glistening with spit, and Jaebum thinks he’s going to cry – and tilts his head at Jaebum. “I’m going to get my first rut soon, I think,” he says, slowly.

Jaebum’s heart is hammering right out of his chest. His knees turn to soup as he nods shakily, waiting for Jinyoung to continue. He knows this, of course – the group has been discussing how best to deal with it for a week or so now. But now Jinyoung’s bringing it up to him one on one, and Jaebum’s imagination is running wild.

“I know it’s a big ask,” Jinyoung says, again with excruciating slowness. He’s always been the type to consider his words before speaking, but never has this habit of his been as unbearable to Jaebum as it is now. “But as it’s my first rut and all…”

He trails off. Jaebum takes in a breath. It rattles in his chest. “Yeah?” he prompts, urging Jinyoung to continue.

Jinyoung glances down, then back up again. “I was wondering if I could have a couple days off our schedule,” he says, suddenly. Firmly.

Right. Okay. That’s all that is. Jaebum tries to keep his expression neutral, but maybe a hint of his disappointment creeps out, because Jinyoung’s face falls. “I know it’s a lot to ask with promotions and all of that, but – however I decide to do it, it’s going to be tough. I think.”

Jaebum clenches his jaw. It’s not fair to Jinyoung, to make him feel bad about something that isn’t his fault in the slightest, just because Jaebum can’t control his raging hormones. He forces a smile onto his face. “No, that’s fine,” he says quickly. “Whenever it happens – just take a couple of days off. It doesn’t matter. And if you need someone to, uh – take a day off with you, that’s fine too.”

He ignores the blaring siren in his mind that is screaming for him to volunteer himself. It’s just _hormones,_ Jaebum reminds himself inwardly. It’s just hormones making him feel like he’s about to fucking pass out just from standing next to Jinyoung. That’s it.

Jinyoung smiles softly at him, and Jaebum’s heart clenches.

“Thanks, hyung,” Jinyoung says, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

-

 

Jaebum regrets everything. He’s in the dance studio, sweating his guts out in practice with the other members, when he could have been – _should have been_ – sweating it out underneath Jinyoung.

He’s attracted to Jinyoung, that much he’s figured out. Admitted to himself. Even if it’s just the hormones talking – they’re hard to ignore. But he went and took too long with it and now he’s here in the dance studio, and Jinyoung’s having his rut, and Jackson – of all people – is the one helping him out.

The frustration crawls under Jaebum’s skin, makes him feel sick. He tries to focus on his reflection in the mirror as they move through the steps, but the two gaping holes in their formations where Jinyoung and Jackson should be – they scream at him. Reminding him of how he’s fucked this all up.

Jackson had crept up to him a couple days ago, his big puppy-dog eyes full of hesitation. “Jaebum hyung,” he’d started, and Jaebum’s heart had immediately sunk. He had a bad feeling. And he was right.

“Jinyoungie asked me, yesterday,” Jackson was saying. “I said I would think about it.”

Jaebum grits his teeth. It’s fine, it’s totally fine. It doesn’t bother him in the slightest that Jinyoung would ask Jackson, and not him. They’re all teammates, right? Doesn’t matter who helps whom out.

“Why are you telling me this?” asks Jaebum tightly. “I already told him, if he wants someone to help, they can be excused from schedules too.”

“Yeah,” mumbles Jackson, shrugging. “But – I wanted to check you were okay with it.”

Jaebum forces a grin. “Why wouldn’t I be okay with it?”

“I don’t know,” Jackson replies, shuffling from one foot to the other. “I guess – I suppose I’m surprised he asked me. And not you.”

The laugh that leaves Jaebum’s mouth is so fake, Jaebum cringes to hear it. “Why would he ask me?” he asks. But his mind is screaming the opposite at him – why _wouldn’t_ he ask me? Jaebum exhales sharply. Why didn’t he?

Jackson raises an eyebrow at Jaebum, like, ‘ _really?’_ – but whatever that’s supposed to mean, Jaebum ignores it, and finally Jackson lets it go. “As long as you’re sure,” he says, and Jaebum’s not sure at all, has never been less sure of anything in his life, but it’s Jinyoung’s choice and he has no right to question it, so he doesn’t say anything.

Now, though – he regrets it. Can’t stop thinking about whatever Jackson and Jinyoung might be doing together right this very moment, and it’s driving him insane. At the very least, it’s driving him to distraction, and when he stumbles on the moves for the third time in ten minutes, he decides to call it a day. Yugyeom gives him a worried look, but Jaebum just smiles feebly and waves him off.

By the time he gets back to the dorms, Jackson’s left – but only just, judging by the fact that when he walks in the door, Jinyoung’s standing by the dining table, gulping down a glass of water, hair matted against his forehead with sweat.

And shirtless.

Jaebum’s heart stutters in his chest. He’s seen Jinyoung’s body plenty of times before, of course – it’s part and parcel of being in the same idol group. But not like this. Never like this.

Every last inch of visible skin is covered in the lightest sheen of sweat, and a hungry voice in Jaebum’s head hisses at him to walk over and lick it off. Does Jinyoung taste the way he smells? Jaebum’s desperate to know. Desire clenches around him. He wants to run his tongue along the subtle grooves of Jinyoung’s abs, along the rise and fall of his pecs.

“Sorry,” Jinyoung says, and Jaebum startles. Fuck, had he been staring? He wrenches his gaze back up to meet Jinyoung’s gaze. There’s a smirk plastered across his face. He doesn’t look or sound sorry at all. “I was just getting a glass of water before going to take a shower.”

Something feels different about the way Jinyoung is. Jaebum vaguely remembers this happening to Mark, and even their no-longer-so-innocent baby, Yugyeom. After their first rut, they got – well, kind of _cocky._ Must be an alpha thing. Or maybe just a ‘getting laid’ thing.

And now, Jinyoung too. Leaning back against the table, one ankle crossed over the other, dressed in nothing but grey sweatpants and a cloud of arrogance.

“You should go do that,” says Jaebum. His voice is unusually croaky. “You reek.”

Jinyoung cocks his head to the side. Sets his glass down on the table, carefully, his pinky finger held tightly against its base to keep it from clinking against the surface. Jaebum watches this movement, transfixed by the sight of Jinyoung’s long fingers wrapped around the tall glass. He swallows, drags his gaze once again back up to Jinyoung’s face.

“Do I reek, now?” asks Jinyoung, shoving both of his hands into his pockets. He takes a single step towards Jaebum, stops there. But it’s enough to almost double the intensity of his scent. Still sweet, still smoky. But there’s something else there, something slightly musky and warm.

Jaebum realises with a flutter in his gut that it’s the smell of sex.

He blinks a few times, rapidly, trying to steady himself amidst the heady aroma engulfing him. “Yeah,” Jaebum mumbles. “You do.”

Jinyoung licks his lips. The movement draws Jaebum’s gaze to Jinyoung’s mouth, and from the small quirk in the corner of Jinyoung’s lips, he knows exactly what he’s doing.

“I’m still in my rut, after all,” Jinyoung says, stepping forward. His voice has a sort of slinky quality to it that makes Jaebum feel like he needs to hold on to something to stay upright. And then he smirks again, and _fuck,_ Jaebum’s in trouble. “I’m not sure a shower would do much to help.”

Jaebum exhales shakily. “Then what – what would help?”

A devilish grin raises the corners of Jinyoung’s lips. “I think you know what would help,” he murmurs. They’re really, really close now, and the smell of Jinyoung is so strong that it takes every last shred of self-control for Jaebum not to launch himself into Jinyoung’s arms, bury his nose in his neck, and just _breathe._

“I can call Jackson for you,” Jaebum stammers out. He can’t meet Jinyoung’s gaze. He knows what Jinyoung’s implying, but regardless of what his hormones are saying, his pride is saying something else. He’s not going to be Jinyoung’s second choice.

Jinyoung reaches his hand towards him, slender fingers gently tilting Jaebum’s chin up so that their eyes lock. It’s the tiniest, most insignificant amount of contact, but it sears into Jaebum. He swallows tightly, around the closed-up feeling in the back of his throat, watches as Jinyoung’s eyes flick down to follow the bob of his adam’s apple.

“I don’t want Jackson,” Jinyoung breathes.

“You wanted Jackson enough to ask him to help you through your rut,” says Jaebum, and _god_ – why does his voice come out like a whine?

Jinyoung juts his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout. “Oh, is the little omega jealous?”

What the fuck? Where has Jaebum’s little dongsaeng gone, and who is this monster in his place? Jaebum takes a stumbling step backwards. His back knocks flat against the door. “No,” he insists. He sounds like a petulant child. “No, I just – I’m just saying. You asked Jackson.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung says, leaning back, folding his arms across his chest. “Like you asked Mark.”

This is true, Jaebum did ask Mark to help him through his first heat. And a couple of heats after that one, whenever the suppressants weren’t quite enough. But it’s not the same.

When Jaebum says this to Jinyoung, though, all he gets in return is a scoff. Amusement twinkles in Jinyoung’s eyes. “How is it different?”

“He – Mark was the only one who had fully presented,” Jaebum grumbles. “He was the best choice. It’s not like I _wanted_ him.”

Jinyoung raises an eyebrow. There’s a triumphant grin on his face. It unnerves Jaebum. “Who did you want, then?” Jinyoung asks. “Who _do_ you want?”

It’s too much. Jaebum gets the sense that he’s being toyed with, but he doesn’t know how to make it stop. Half of him isn’t sure that he wants it to stop. The omega half. But the other half, the half that is still able to piece together some semblance of rational thought, rears its head.

“I don’t want anyone,” he says.

“Lie,” replies Jinyoung, without missing a beat. He steps into Jaebum’s personal space, leans down into his neck, takes a deep inhale. “I can smell when an omega is lying.”

Jaebum presses himself further into the door behind him. “Fuck off, you can’t,” he snaps. Frustrated. Flustered beyond belief.

Jinyoung raises his head, looks Jaebum directly in the eye. “No, you’re right, I can’t,” he whispers. “But I can tell that you’re lying, right now. Because I can smell how much you want me.”

“I don’t – I don’t want you,” Jaebum manages to choke out. Jinyoung’s scent is so overpowering, he feels like he’s about to cry. His insides clench, desire coiling around him like twisting vines.

“If you tell me the truth, maybe I’ll give you what you want.” Jinyoung leans forward, his lips hovering against Jaebum’s ear. “Last chance. Tell me you want me.”

It’s a battle between Jaebum’s desire and his pride, and, in the end, his pride wins out. “I don’t want you,” he stammers out, voice barely above a hoarse whisper.

Jinyoung pulls away. Steps back away from Jaebum completely. The abrupt loss of his warmth, his _scent,_ feels like a part of Jaebum has been wrenched away. “Jinyoung-ah,” he groans, looking up at Jinyoung in mild panic.

“Too late,” murmurs Jinyoung. Still smirking. “I’ll go take that shower now.”

It’s only after he turns and walks off, that Jaebum lets himself slide down to the floor, his legs crumpling beneath him. His breath is coming in short, sharp bursts.

What the fuck just happened?

 

-

 

Jinyoung takes to wandering around the dorm without a shirt on, and Jaebum is so distracted by the constant, unrelenting twist of desire in his gut that he can barely focus on anything except Jinyoung. Which is probably just what Jinyoung wants. Jaebum can tell, from the way Jinyoung watches him. A look of smug satisfaction plastered on his face.

Then one day Jinyoung comes out of the shower in nothing but a towel wrapped around his waist, water running in rivulets down the plane of his chest and abs, and Jaebum startles so hard that he accidentally knocks a glass off the kitchen counter.

“Shit,” mutters Jaebum, crouching down to pick up the shards of glass. He collects a couple of the larger pieces in his right hand, but when he goes to pick up a third piece, the sharp edge of the glass slices against his finger. He winces, drops the shards he had already picked up. “Fuck!”

Jinyoung is by his side in a second, bending down to grab hold of his wrist. “Don’t touch the glass, you idiot,” he says, fiercely. Turns Jaebum’s hand over in his palm, peers at the cut on his index finger. A deep red pearl of blood sits on his skin, slowly growing in size as blood oozes out of the cut.

“I’m fine,” says Jaebum. But Jinyoung doesn’t release his hand, just gets to his feet slowly, gently leading Jaebum to stand up with him.

“Sit there,” Jinyoung instructs, gesturing towards the kitchen counter behind Jaebum.

Jaebum hesitates. He hasn’t sat on a kitchen counter since he was a child. “I don’t think –” he mumbles, but Jinyoung steps forward, presses a finger to his lips. The heat of Jinyoung’s skin against his lips burns him.

“Shut up,” Jinyoung says. Heat pools in Jaebum’s gut. He stumbles backwards, until his back bumps into the counter. Jinyoung places his hands on Jaebum’s hips, gives him a little lift to help him up. Jaebum presses his good hand into the counter, hops up onto the counter obligingly. Jinyoung quirks a half-smile at him. “Good boy,” he murmurs, “now stay there where you can’t hurt yourself.”

And it should feel patronising, it really should, but it doesn’t. It just makes him _want._ He reaches across the counter, grabs some kitchen towel, and presses it into the cut. Then just sits there, watches as Jinyoung sweeps up the broken glass, wipes up the spilled water.

When Jinyoung’s done, he turns back to face Jaebum. “How’s the finger?” he asks, stepping closer. He reaches out, and Jaebum obligingly presents his hand for Jinyoung to inspect. His heart is slamming against his ribcage.

“Hurts,” Jaebum mumbles. He lowers his head. His cheeks are burning.

Jinyoung hums softly, removing the balled up paper towel, now streaked with blood. They both stare at Jaebum’s finger, watch silently as blood begins to seep out of the cut again, now that the pressure Jaebum was applying has been removed.

“Still bleeding,” observes Jinyoung.

Jaebum glances up at Jinyoung through his lashes. Jinyoung steps closer, his hips nudging into the insides of Jaebum’s knees, and Jaebum’s legs spread to allow Jinyoung to stand between them. Their eyes lock, and Jaebum breathes heavily. Each inhale and exhale becomes increasingly laboured.

Slowly, his eyes still boring into Jaebum’s, Jinyoung leans down. Brings his lips just a fraction of an inch away from Jaebum’s bleeding finger. Jaebum tilts his head back, rests it against the cabinets. Jinyoung’s smell is just as strong as it always is, but with him so close, he’s also radiating burning heat. The combination of the two sensations makes Jaebum feel like he’s about to combust.

Jinyoung exhales slowly, his breath warm against Jaebum’s finger. Despite himself, Jaebum feels his thighs clench together, tightening around Jinyoung’s hips. Jaebum fidgets slightly. His dick twitches in anticipation.

Then Jinyoung’s tongue is darting out, licking a lazy swipe across the pad of Jaebum’s finger.

“Jinyoung-ah,” croaks out Jaebum. His eyes fall shut. His thighs squeeze into Jinyoung’s sides.

When Jinyoung sucks the tip of the finger into his mouth, Jaebum flinches with the inexplicable intensity of the sensation. He squirms, but Jinyoung’s free hand flies to his hips, presses him in place. Jinyoung swirls his tongue around his finger, and Jaebum lets out a plaintive whine. He bucks his hips upwards, trying desperately to create some friction – any friction at all – against his painfully hard dick, but Jinyoung’s strong, much stronger than Jaebum remembers him being, and holds him down.

“Jinyoung, please,” Jaebum breathes. “Please, please.”

Suddenly, without warning, Jinyoung pulls off Jaebum’s finger with a soft ‘pop’. Jaebum’s eyes fly open, and he stares at Jinyoung. He can see the desire pooling in Jinyoung’s eyes as well.

But Jinyoung isn’t going to give in that easily. “Please, what?” he asks.

Jaebum feels like he’s about to cry. Jinyoung leans back, away from him, but with both hands now resting on Jaebum’s hips, holding him still. Making it impossible for Jaebum to rock his hips upwards like he so, so desperately wants to. _Needs_ to.

“Please,” repeats Jaebum. He can’t bring himself to say anything else, except, “please, please – Jinyoung, please.”

“Use your words,” Jinyoung demands. “Tell me what you want.”

Jaebum squirms helplessly against Jinyoung’s grip. “I – you know – please, Jinyoung-ah,” he begs.

Jinyoung shakes his head. Leans forward, until their lips are a mere breath away from each other. A soft cry escapes Jaebum, and he tilts his head up, desperate to close the distance between them. But Jinyoung pulls back, and Jaebum ends up crashing into nothingness.

“No, I don’t know,” Jinyoung says. He releases Jaebum, and steps away.

Now Jaebum really, really thinks he’s going to cry. He reaches out towards Jinyoung, tries to pull him back, but Jinyoung is already walking away. His fingers close around air.

“Please,” he cries out, but Jinyoung’s left the kitchen, and there’s no one’s there to hear him.

He hunches over, the ache in his core suddenly sharpening into an acute stab of pain. It surprises him, when he wipes a hand across his face, to find that there are tears streaking his cheeks.

It takes him a moment to compose himself enough to climb off the counter, coming to stand shakily on his wobbly legs. He turns to lean against the counter, and that’s when his breath hitches in his throat.

The counter is covered in his slick. Pulse racing, Jaebum reaches between his legs. His thighs are drenched as well. Jaebum leans his weight into the counter. His gut twists with pain.

He’s in heat.

 

-

 

Jaebum’s lying face down on his bed, one hand fisted in his sheets, the other closed around his bottle of heat suppressants.

He’s cleaned up the mess he made in the kitchen, and changed into a clean set of clothes, but that’s not going to be much use if he doesn’t do something about the fact that he’s in the most intense heat he’s experienced yet. His body’s on fire, his dick so hard that it aches.

It would be easy to tip out a couple of suppressant pills, knock them back, wait for the hormones to take effect. Wait for the fire crackling beneath his skin to subside, for the electric tingle in his gut to disappear. Wait for the image of Jinyoung, shirtless, smooth tanned skin glowing like the light of the sun, to fade from his mind.

But Jaebum hesitates.

_Tell me what you want._

That’s what Jinyoung had said. And every single nerve in Jaebum’s body is crying out – _you, Jinyoung, I want you._

Why the fuck hadn’t he said that? Why had he let the chance slip away? Jaebum groans, buries his face deeper into his pillow. He tries to ignore the fact that he’s rutting his hips into the mattress. His mind plays on repeat the image of Jinyoung’s lips shaping around those words.

_Tell me what you want._

Jaebum exhales shakily, flips himself onto his back. What has his pride gotten him so far? Fuck all, that’s what. He pushes himself up into a sitting position, looks at the bottle in his hand. _Omega Heat Suppressants,_ it reads. _Never feel out of control again._

“Fuck it,” he hisses, chucking the bottle across the room. Control is overrated.

He doesn’t let himself hesitate, just marches straight out of his room and across to Jinyoung’s. Three sharp knocks on the door. That’s all it takes. The sound rings out sharply in the silence of the otherwise empty flat.

For the longest two seconds of his life, Jaebum waits. His heart is beating so quickly, and so forcefully, that he feels like it’s going to bruise the inside of his ribs. Sweat trickles down from his hairline, along his temple.

Then the door slides open, and there Jinyoung is, in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized sweater that hangs almost completely off one shoulder. Jaebum looks at the exposed length of collarbone, and swallows tightly. Closes his eyes, inhales deeply. The warm, heady aroma of Jinyoung. It intoxicates him.

When he opens his eyes, Jinyoung is just looking at him. The tiniest of smirks toying at the corner of his mouth, tugging it upwards. One of his hands grips the door frame. His eyes are dark, and they bore into Jaebum.

But he doesn’t say anything.

Jaebum sucks his lower lip into his mouth, digs down into it with his teeth. Feels the twinge of pain with a stab of arousal.

_Tell me what you want._

Jinyoung’s words echo through him. Jaebum releases his lip from between his teeth, watches as Jinyoung’s eyes flicker down to his mouth, something like hunger flaring in his eyes. At the very least, Jaebum thinks, he knows that Jinyoung wants him too.

“I want you,” Jaebum says. Jinyoung’s eyes lift to meet his gaze. Out of the corner of his eye, Jaebum notices Jinyoung’s fingers clench more tightly into the door frame. He feels suddenly bold. Lifts his chin, and takes the tiniest step towards Jinyoung. “ _I want you,”_ he repeats, letting his voice fall into a breathy rasp.

And then Jinyoung’s lips are crashing into his, and they’re both stumbling into the room, and Jinyoung’s hands are large and warm and one is on the back of his neck and one on the curve of his waist, and Jaebum feels like a million explosions beneath his skin.

Jinyoung’s tongue forces its way into his mouth, and Jaebum lets his lips fall open, he wants this, he wants him, wants _Jinyoung,_ so much and so desperately, but his body doesn’t feel like it belongs to him anymore. He cries out with utter overwhelm, but Jinyoung doesn’t stop, just keeps kissing into him, hands digging almost painfully into his flesh.

Jaebum starts to overcome the swell of sensation, moves his hands from where they’ve come to rest on Jinyoung’s elbows, starts to slide them down towards Jinyoung’s hips. He holds Jinyoung firmly, trying to regain some semblance of control over the situation.

That’s when Jinyoung breaks away from him suddenly. The force of the sudden separation makes Jaebum stumble backwards, and he drops down onto Jinyoung’s bed somewhat ungracefully. He looks plaintively up at Jinyoung. Why have they stopped? Has he done something wrong?

“Here’s how this is going to go,” Jinyoung says, stepping closer to him, nudging his thighs open. He slides his fingers through Jaebum’s hair, looks down at him through hooded lids. Jaebum feels himself go completely still under Jinyoung’s touch – except for his mouth, which parts slightly in anticipation.

“You don’t call the shots,” Jinyoung continues, his voice a low drawl. Closes his hand into a fist in Jaebum’s hair, tugs back suddenly so that Jaebum’s head jerks back, chin raised and neck exposed. “I do.”

He releases his grip on Jaebum’s hair, trails his fingers down the side of Jaebum’s face. Presses his thumb into Jaebum’s lower lip. “Is that going to be okay with you?” he asks.

Jaebum nods, nods so eagerly, so needily. It’s all he wants, all his brain and body can focus on. Jinyoung smiles at him, like he’s done something _good,_ and knowing that he’s made Jinyoung happy sends a warm flush coursing through his veins. Then Jinyoung slips the thumb on his lip into his mouth, presses down on his tongue to force his mouth open, and Jaebum has never felt so helpless or vulnerable before. He gazes up at Jinyoung, at the sharp angle of his jaw, and patiently waits.

“Traffic lights,” Jinyoung says. He drags his thumb out of Jaebum’s mouth, down his chin. Jaebum can feel the wet trail of spit it drags along his skin. “If you want me to stop – if you _really want me to stop_ – that’s red. Okay?”

“Yeah,” Jaebum mumbles. He reaches his hands out slide up the sides of Jinyoung’s thighs, slips his fingers under the hem of Jinyoung’s sweater. When he touches the bare skin of Jinyoung’s waist, it’s so warm and soft that Jaebum can’t help but curl his fingers into the flesh there, tugging Jinyoung closer. He _wants_ so badly, can barely control what he’s doing.

A lazy smirk coils along Jinyoung’s lip. His hand slides down to Jaebum’s throat, gently, fondly. Then tightens ever so slightly, just enough that Jaebum’s breath hisses quietly out of his windpipe.

“Hands off,” Jinyoung orders. When Jaebum whines, and doesn’t release him, Jinyoung applies a little more pressure. “I said – hands off.”

Jaebum wheezes slightly, but drops his hands back down to the bed like he’s been burnt, and with a half-smile, Jinyoung releases his throat. Jaebum sucks in a sharp inhale, feeling the cool air swell his lungs. The sudden sensation burns in his chest, spreads suddenly across his body. All he knows now is fire.

“Take your clothes off.”

There’s no room for argument, not that Jaebum wants to argue anyway. He yanks his t-shirt over his head, then stands up and pulls his sweatpants and boxers down in one motions. Kicks them off, then shuffles back onto the bed.

Jinyoung smiles at him, and there’s such a triumphant glint in his eyes. Jaebum drops his gaze shyly. His cock is throbbing, and his entire core is twisted with the ache of yearning. It’s all he can do not to take himself in his own hand. But something gives him a feeling that Jinyoung isn’t going to like that. So he just fists his hands into the sheets.

“Look at me,” Jinyoung says, sharply. Jaebum wrenches his eyes up to meet Jinyoung’s. And, fuck – Jinyoung’s cheeks are flushed, his lips swollen and pouty, even more so than they usually are. Jaebum feels a sudden surge of affection crash into him, for this boy he’s watched grow into a man.

Then Jinyoung pulls his sweater over his head, and Jaebum’s mind empties. He has to struggle to breathe around the tightness in his throat. Jinyoung’s body has developed into such a fucking _work of art,_ he thinks. All svelte muscles under taut, glowing skin.

And as Jinyoung pulls off his sweatpants and boxers, Jaebum’s heart lurches.

“Fuck,” he exhales. He wants him. Wants him so much that the desire rips through him like a hurricane, shredding up any and all coherent thought in his mind. “Jinyoungie, _fuck.”_

His hands creep towards his dick. He needs to touch himself, or he needs someone to touch him, or he’s going to lose his fucking mind. But his hands stall. Jinyoung’s shooting him a sharp glare.

“Don’t you dare,” Jinyoung barks. “Don’t you dare touch yourself.”

The whine that slips out of Jaebum’s throat is so needy, Jaebum can barely believe he made that noise. “Please,” he begs. “Jinyoung-ah, please.”

Jinyoung smiles devilishly, wraps a hand around his own dick. Drags it slowly up and down the shaft, as if to rub in the fact that Jaebum’s not allowed to do the same. Jaebum whines plaintively, squirms against the bed, his hands balling up the sheets in frustration.

“Are you wet for me?” Jinyoung asks.

“Yes, fuck – yes, I am,” Jaebum whimpers. And he is, he can feel it, can feel the stickiness between his legs, making a mess of Jinyoung’s sheets but he doesn’t care, doesn’t care about anything except Jinyoung and his beautiful, thick cock, and how much he wants it in his mouth.

But Jinyoung just smiles coyly at him, and Jaebum’s losing his mind. “I am, I’m so wet, so slick for you,” Jaebum cries out. He doesn’t know what else to say, doesn’t know what will make Jinyoung give him what he wants, so he just keeps talking, whimpering, words pouring out of him. “Please, Jinyoung-ah, I want you so much, fuck – please!”

“Show me.”

Jaebum blinks in confusion. Jinyoung raises an eyebrow at him, and then Jaebum gets it. He licks his lips nervously. Reaches down between his legs – avoiding his aching dick, because Jinyoung won’t like that, if he touches it – and down to where he’s dripping slick all over the damn place.

Their eyes are locked onto each other, and Jaebum slowly, slowly, slides one finger into himself.

He exhales shakily, eyes falling shut and his head tipping back. Every fibre of his being is quivering, and his nerves are exploding with sensation. But it’s somehow all too much and not enough at once, and it’s with a breathless whimper that Jaebum’s sliding a second finger inside himself, and then a third.

“Talk to me,” he hears Jinyoung saying through the cloud of pleasure that’s settling over him. “Tell me what you feel like.”

Jaebum moans, curling his fingers up inside him. It shoots a jolt of electric pleasure up his spine, and he jerks in surprise and delight. “It feels good – I feel good,” he stammers, “Tights, and wet. And warm. Wish it’s you. Jinyoungie, I wish it was you. I wish you were inside me, I want you inside me.”

An animalistic whine drags out of him. Jaebum’s mind is on fire, he can’t feel anything anymore except the sensation of his own fingers plunging in and out of himself. He thinks of Jinyoung watching him, fisting his own cock, imagines what it would feel like if it was Jinyoung inside him instead, and he’s cresting on the brink of everything he’s ever wanted.

“Stop,” hisses Jinyoung suddenly. Jaebum stops moving, and his eyes fly open. “Take your fingers out.”

Jaebum hesitates, but he sees the look in Jinyoung’s eyes, and with a desperate, pleading whine, he drags his fingers out. “Please,” he chokes out. He was so close, and now he’s not, and every muscle in his body is so tense he feels like he is going to shatter. “Jinyoungie, _please.”_

“You made me wait,” Jinyoung is saying now, coming towards him, climbing onto the bed, trailing languid exhales up along the length of Jaebum’s stomach. “You made me wait, and you _asked Mark.”_

“And you asked Jackson,” complains Jaebum. He arches his back, trying to get their bodies to press together, but Jinyoung just crawls over him like a cat. Holds his wrists down into the bed, next to his head, so that he can’t _touch._

“Yeah,” murmurs Jinyoung, hovering over Jaebum’s ear. His breath sends tingles of arousal spiralling through Jaebum. “Didn’t feel good, did it?”

Jaebum whimpers, squirms under Jinyoung’s grip. “What, are you jealous?” he asks.

“Jealous?” Jinyoung repeats, like it’s something funny. Jaebum feels Jinyoung’s tongue press against his collarbone, feels Jinyoung drag an excruciatingly slow lick up the length of his neck. “Not jealous,” replies Jinyoung, and Jaebum can hear the smirk in his voice. “ _Possessive.”_

Jaebum groans, and then suddenly Jinyoung’s latched onto the skin at the curve of his neck, and his teeth are digging in as he sucks, _hard,_ and it fucking hurts but it also feels like all of his nerves are screaming with ecstasy. “God, _fuck,”_ Jaebum cries out, “please, Jinyoung-ah, please.”

“Please what?” Jinyoung murmurs against his skin.

“Please fuck me, please!” Jaebum begs, any sense of coyness he had had before completely gone. All he can think of is _Jinyoung, Jinyoung, Jinyoung._ His wrists strain against Jinyoung’s grip, and he bucks his hips upwards. “Please, oh god – just fuck me, I want you inside me, I’m–”

He trails off with broken noise in the back of his throat. Words are failing him. His brain is so fuzzy.

Jinyoung scoffs. “You’re such a fucking slut, aren’t you?” He releases Jaebum’s wrists, and flips onto his back. “If you want me, show me.”

Jaebum’s breathless, and somehow sticky with sweat despite having done little to deserve it. He swings his leg over Jinyoung to straddle him. Tries to slide down onto Jinyoung’s dick, but Jinyoung’s holding a clenched fist over his own dick, and Jaebum can barely get the tip in. He whimpers brokenly.

“Answer me,” demands Jinyoung. “You’re just a filthy whore, aren’t you?”

Jaebum chews on his bottom lip. “Yeah,” he mumbles, quietly.

“I can’t hear you,” snaps Jinyoung. He slaps Jaebum’s ass, hard – it rings out loudly and sharply, matched only by the surprised yelp that Jaebum releases. He loses his balance and tips forward slightly, clenches his fists into Jinyoung’s shoulders as his body tenses around the barest bit of Jinyoung that he’s been allowed to have inside him.

“Yes, I’m a filthy whore,” Jaebum repeats, a little louder. His cheeks heat up. “I’m a slut – I’m your slut.”

Jinyoung smiles approvingly at him. Brings another ringing slap down on Jaebum’s ass. “Well done,” he praises, and it makes something inside Jaebum light up. “My needy little bitch.”

And then he shifts his hands away from his cock, and jerks his hips upwards so he’s buried completely inside Jaebum. The abruptness of the motion drags an involuntary yelp of shock from Jaebum, but the surprise is quickly replaced by sheer, blinding, _pleasure._ Jinyoung’s long, and thick, and he fills Jaebum up so completely Jaebum can’t understand how he didn’t just feel completely hollow walking around all the time _without_ Jinyoung’s cock in him.

“Ride me, go on, you know you want to,” Jinyoung teases, his voice a challenge.

Jaebum doesn’t need to be told twice. He rocks his hips back and forth, gives himself in completely to the feeling of Jinyoung inside him, to the friction of Jinyoung sliding in and out as his muscles undulate around him.

“Talk to me,” Jinyoung says, again.

This time, Jaebum’s so overwhelmed with sensation that any dregs of embarrassment that might have been lingering are completely pushed out of his mind. He throws his head back, arching his back, trying to find that perfect angle that sends sparks coursing through his body.

“Feels good,” Jaebum mumbles, fingers raking down along Jinyoung’s chest. “You feel good, fuck – you make me feel so good, feel so full–”

“You love it, don’t you? Hungry little cockslut?”

Pleasure flutters in Jaebum’s gut. “Yeah – yes, yes,” he cries out.

Jinyoung wraps one hand around Jaebum’s cock, pumps it up and down, and _fuck_ – the moan that tears out of Jaebum’s mouth is possibly the lewdest sound he’s ever heard. He’s bobbing up and down on Jinyoung’s dick, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh ringing out through the room, and Jinyoung’s giving him a handjob, and Jaebum’s so _incredibly, tantalising,_ close, it’s within reach again, and he’s about to give in and let the sensations overtake him, when Jinyoung suddenly releases his cock.

Jaebum cries out in frustration, looks down at Jinyoung. “Please,” he whimpers, twists and tries to rub his cock against Jinyoung’s stomach, _anything_ to get the friction back.

But Jinyoung just wraps a thumb and two fingers around the base of Jaebum’s dick, keeping him from crossing the line. Jaebum whines in desperation, picking up the pace, trying to get where he wants to go from the sensation of Jinyoung filling him completely, but Jinyoung’s holding him in place, and it’s so fucking _frustrating_ that he starts to cry.

“Please, please,” he chokes out. Tears leak out of his eyes. “Jinyoung-ah,” he pleads, still desperately shifting, twisting, arching on top of Jinyoung. His fingers dig into Jinyoung’s shoulders as he tries to find some sort of leverage. “I want to – _please.”_

“You want to what?” Jinyoung asks. He’s going to make Jaebum say it, of course he is. And Jaebum wants it so badly that he doesn’t even hesitate.

“I want to come,” he whimpers. He’s crying in earnest now, it hurts so much, his whole body coiled up so tightly that he thinks he might implode. “I want to come, please let me come, Jinyoung-ah.”

Jinyoung hums. “How badly do you want it?”

“So badly,” Jaebum sobs, quivering helplessly from the tension. Tears spill from his eyes, stream down his cheeks. “I’m a filthy whore, Jinyoung-ah, I _need_ to come, please,” he babbles, his lips slick with spit, “I’m your slut, I’m a horny bitch, fuck – I just want you to destroy me, Jinyoung, please, just–”

“Fuck, you sound so hot, _fuck–”_ Jinyoung hisses, and then he’s grunting and digging his teeth into Jaebum’s shoulder, and Jaebum sucks at the soft flesh above Jinyoung’s collarbone as he tightens his muscles around Jinyoung. He feels the moment Jinyoung comes, the sudden rigidity in Jinyoung’s body, the slow release.

But Jinyoung’s still not letting him come. He gently releases his grip around the base of Jaebum’s cock, slides out and pushes Jaebum over onto his back. Jaebum whines insistently, reaching out to try and tug Jinyoung back, but Jinyoung bats Jaebum’s hands away.

“Soon, baby,” he murmurs placatingly, as he slides the palm of his hand down the length of Jaebum’s chest, his stomach. Across his hip, down the inside of his thigh, pointedly avoiding Jaebum’s throbbing cock.

“You’ve been so good for me,” Jinyoung praises, drawing another mewl from Jaebum, and then he swipes his thumb over the tip of Jaebum’s dick. Jaebum’s jerks his hips up from the sudden sensation. He can feel himself sliding back down from the edge, and it’s so frustrating it brings tears to his eyes. The teasing is driving him insane, and he digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

“Jinyoungie,” Jaebum begs, “please.” He can feel Jinyoung’s come slipping slowly out of him, mixed with his own slick, and the smell that it adds to the already heady mix of scents in the room makes Jaebum’s eyes roll back in his head.

A soft hum escapes Jinyoung as his fingers dance along the soft skin of Jaebum’s inner thigh. “Please what?”

Jaebum twists his hips upwards, but Jinyoung just darts his hands away, keeps the sensation just enough, but not enough. “Please let me come,” Jaebum pleads, his voice cracking. He tips his head back into the pillows, arches his back. “Please let me come, please, I want to come, I’ve been so good.” He babbles on and on, desperation overtaking him completely.

Jinyoung dips his fingers down between Jaebum’s legs. Pulls them back, covered with slick and come and glistening so beautifully. He locks eyes with Jaebum, slides his fingers into his own mouth. Jaebum’s breath hitches.

“You taste good,” purrs Jinyoung, “my sweet omega.”

All Jaebum can manage is a feeble grunt. He’s not touching himself, not being touched, but he feels like he might just come from watching Jinyoung, two long fingers sliding lewdly in and out of his mouth, lips plump and wet from spit, and slick, and come.

“You wanna taste?” Jinyoung asks, and Jaebum nods – nods so eagerly, like the taste of Jinyoung’s come is the only thing he’s ever craved in his life.

Smirking, Jinyoung dips his fingers between Jaebum’s legs again, slides them into him for the briefest second, too fleeting a moment of such a long-awaited sensation that Jaebum yelps and jerks his hips. Tears spill out of his eyes as Jinyoung crawls back up towards him, delivers two fingers to his wide-open, waiting, mouth.

Jaebum sucks Jinyoung’s fingers into his mouth, tastes the sharpness of Jinyoung’s come swirled with the sweetness of his own slick. Then Jinyoung’s slipping his other hand down, gently palming at Jaebum’s dick, and it’s such a surprise but also so fucking intense that Jaebum almost screams. But Jinyoung just pushes his fingers into his mouth more firmly, and Jaebum swallows down the yell, makes a muffled moaning noise in the back of his throat instead, sucks on Jinyoung’s fingers more demandingly.

Jinyoung’s not quite gripping Jaebum’s cock properly, leaving Jaebum to plaintively moan and roll his hips around beneath him, wordless but pleading nonetheless.

“You want to come?” asks Jinyoung, and Jaebum mewls in response, nods frantically. Jinyoung grips at the base of Jaebum’s cock.

“ _Please,”_ chokes out Jaebum, lips stretched around Jinyoung’s fingers.

And Jinyoung releases the pressure around the base of his cock, wraps his hand round and pumps him up and down quickly, and it only takes moments before Jaebum’s coming _so hard,_ harder than he’s ever, ever come before. All the tension twisted up in his muscles uncoils explosively, like a spring, and he spills out across his stomach, across his chest, with a loud, plaintive cry.

Pleasure floods through his body, a licking flame that starts in his gut and spreads across his chest, up his neck, caressing his brain. He claws his nails into Jinyoung’s back, presses him close. “Oh my god, fuck,” he whimpers into Jinyoung’s neck. Locks his ankles around Jinyoung, his hips jerking upwards as he rides out his high.

When he opens his eyes again, he sees Jinyoung above him, arms braced on either side of his head, a soft, fond smile on his face. It makes Jaebum’s heart swell with affection. His vision goes a little blurry as tears swim in his eyes.

Jinyoung’s smile falters. “Are – are you crying?”

Jaebum beams stupidly up at him. “Yes, but just – I’m happy,” he mumbles.

“Oh,” breathes Jinyoung. His cheeks turn the faintest shade of pink. “That’s good – I was worried.”

It’s cute, how quickly Jinyoung switches modes. Just minutes ago he was calling Jaebum his ‘filthy whore’ and such. “You didn’t seem so worried when you were making me cry from all the edging,” teases Jaebum.

Jinyoung smirks, and there he is, the alpha. _Jaebum’s alpha,_ he can’t help but think. It brings such a wildly foolish grin to his face, but Jaebum doesn’t care, he’s so satisfied and he feels all warm and snuggly inside. Even though he’s all messy and sticky with come and slick and sweat. He never wants to move again. He’s where he belongs – in Jinyoung’s arms.

“I’ve wanted this – wanted you – for so long,” says Jinyoung.

“Because I smell good?” asks Jaebum.

A light, tinkling laugh escapes Jinyoung. He smoothes Jaebum’s fringe off his forehead. “You do smell good, but no – not just because of that,” he replies. “Even before you I could smell you, even before your first heat. Way before any of that. Back when it was just the two of us. I wanted you, even then.”

Jaebum’s lips part slightly in surprise. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Jinyoung shrugs, rolls over onto his back. Grabs a box of tissues from his nightstand and helps clean Jaebum up. “Don’t know,” he mumbles. “Figured you wouldn’t like me back.” He pauses. “Still not sure you like me back.”

“What?” Jaebum asks, wadding up the tissues and chucking them across the room in the general direction of the bin. He wraps himself around Jinyoung, one arm curling around his waist and one leg slipping between Jinyoung’s. “I just had the best sex of my life with you.”

He sees a small smile creep onto Jinyoung’s face. “Yes, but – that was just because of the heat, you know?” he says, scrunching up his nose. It’s unbearably cute, and Jaebum’s chest clenches at the sight. Everything Jinyoung does, everything that he is, calls out to Jaebum.

“I’ve had heat sex with Mark too,” Jaebum says.

Jinyoung scowls. “Don’t remind me.”

“No, I mean – I know what it feels like for something to be ‘just because of the heat’,” Jaebum clarifies quickly. He nuzzles his nose into Jinyoung’s neck. “This definitely wasn’t just because of the heat.”

Jinyoung hums softly, contemplatively. Turns his head, presses a firm kiss into the top of Jaebum’s head. “Good,” he murmurs. “That’s good.”

“We can talk about it, some time,” says Jaebum.

“Yeah,” Jinyoung agrees, his voice low and serene, “but not right now.”

Jaebum nods, closes his eyes, inhales Jinyoung’s scent deeply. It doesn’t feel as intense as it did before, but there’s a different quality to it. Warm, and engulfing. It fills Jaebum, makes him feel safe, and loved. Maybe it’s the omega hormones. But Jaebum’s always believed in free will. Hormones can’t make you feel certain things. Like love. Not that Jaebum’s thinking about that right now.

“For now – just,” Jinyoung murmurs. He sounds like he’s drifting off. Jaebum feels sleepy, too.

“Just what?” he hums indistinctly.

“Just – remember that you’re mine.”

A smile raises the corners of Jaebum’s lips. He breathes in, breathes out. Jinyoung's arms relax around him. Their heartbeats fall steadily into sync.

 

**Author's Note:**

> please leave kudos/comments if you liked it :)
> 
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